


Here's to the Assholes and the Last Calls

by alison



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Apples to Apples, Drunk Louis, Embarrassment, Fluff, M/M, maybe humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis gets drunk and declares his love for Nick. Nick won't kiss him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here's to the Assholes and the Last Calls

**Author's Note:**

> This is possibly ridiculous.

 

“I might be in love with you.”

Louis means it. Sure, his words are slurred and he's swaying a bit on his feet and all of the lights and sounds in the crowded pub are blurring together. But Nick had handed him a drink, then dragged him over to the neon-bright jukebox thing and let Louis pick all of the songs and Louis thinks that's enough to earn his love.

“That easy, is it?” Nick asks, smirking.

There's a hand on Louis' back, keeping him steady, and Louis likes it there. It's warm and nice and Louis likes things that are warm and nice. Things like Nick.

“Sure,” Louis says with a smile and a shrug.

“Well, drunk Louis, I am very flattered,” Nick says with an easy smile, his palm pressing more firmly into Louis' back. “But I think sober Louis wouldn't approve of your choices.”

Louis frowns and whips his head around, looking for a flat surface of some sort. He finds a table nearby and takes a few wobbly steps to it, setting his drink down. When he turns back, Nick is right there, having followed him closely. Louis' eyebrows shoot up and he grins brightly.

“Oh, hello,” he says cheerfully, slinking his hands up the tall man's arms, locking them behind Nick's neck. “Yes, I had something to say. What was it?”

Nick rolls his eyes and holds onto Louis' waist. Warm and nice. Louis might be in love.

“Oh, that's right!” Louis says, possibly too loudly. “I was going to tell on sober Louis because he's sort of dumb and maybe I don't approve of _his_ choices, thank you very much.”

Nick laughs, not loud enough to be audible in the loud pub, but Louis can feel the breath on his cheek. “Tell on him, eh?”

Louis nods emphatically. “Right. See, sober Louis thinks you're cute but he never tells you. Instead, he acts like he can't stand you and that's just silly, don't you think?”

Nick goes a bit still, chewing on his lip, and Louis frowns up at him, waiting impatiently for an answer. He's sure he asked a question.

“You two seem to be getting along,” Niall says, striding up next to them.

Louis lights up at the new face, keeping his arms around Nick's neck, but leaning far over to the side to smile at his friend. “Niall,” he says, dragging the word out far longer than he needs to, but it's such a silly sounding name and Louis likes it a lot, likes saying it. “I'm telling all of sober Louis' secrets. Also, I've fallen in love.”

Niall laughs, eyes darting up to take in Nick's expression, then he looks back to Louis. “Sober Louis is going to be so fuckin' pissed off tomorrow, mate.”

“Don't care,” Louis singsongs loudly, grinning up at Nick, who looks thoughtful and quiet, which is stupid. He should be kissing Louis, not thinking. “Tell Nick to kiss me, Ni,” he says over a stubborn pout, eyes on Nick's expression.

When Niall doesn't do as he's been told, Louis is annoyed. When Niall asks the question he asks, Louis is beyond annoyed.

“Hey, mate, do you want me to take him off your hands?”

Louis is fairly sure he'll cry if Nick says yes, but luckily he just shakes his head. Louis, feeling winded by the whole evening, rests his head on the man's shoulder, watching Niall walk away.

“You're not going to kiss me, are you?” He asks miserably, turning his head to nuzzle into Nick's neck.

He sighs and Louis can't tell if he's rocking them slowly or if the room is just tilting in his vision. “I'll do you one better, drunk Louis,” he says, dipping down so he doesn't have to shout for Louis to hear him. “I'll make sure you don't kiss anyone else and I'll get you home and, should you get sick, I will make sure it happens in a toilet instead of all over yourself.”

Louis isn't sure that's actually better, but he likes the part where Nick is going to take him home. He starts singing in a whisper, _if you don't wanna take it slow, if you just wanna-_

“Oh, Jesus,” Nick mumbles, sliding a hand up from Louis' back to cradle the back of his head, fingers gently rubbing against his scalp. “You're so pissed, love.”

Louis smiles at the feeling of Nick's fingertips massaging through his hair, leaning just about all of his weight into the man. When one of the songs he'd chosen comes blaring through the speakers, he perks up, pushing away from Nick just enough so he's actually standing on his own. He finds his drink, lifting it from the table behind him, and he sips at it, making Nick dance with him to the Backstreet Boys.

He might be in love.

-

When he wakes up, his eyelids flutter open slowly and it hits him suddenly. He does _not_ feel well. Trying not to move too much, he turns his head to find the digital clock on his nightstand telling him that it's almost ten. Through his blurry vision, he sees a bottle of water and a bottle of pills next to the clock and Louis thinks God must exist and God must have put them there.

Once he's swallowed down two capsules, contemplating a third, but not sure if his stomach could handle it, he curls up into a ball, deciding not to move until the medicine has kicked in.

The evening comes back to him in bits. He mostly remembers Nick, remembers declaring his love for the man repeatedly and probably obnoxiously. He doesn't remember how he got home, but either Nick got him here or he pawned him off on Niall or Harry. Louis groans, the embarrassing memories making him feel sicker.

Just then his phone buzzes from behind the paracetamol and he gropes out for it, his muscles feeling like jelly.

It's from Harry. _you okay? still alive?_

Louis frowns at his phone if only because that's the only expression he can manage right now and types out a response.

_not really, just up. did you drive me home?_

His head is still pounding and he wonders how long these bloody pills take to start working. He feels like a shower would be good, but getting out of bed seems like an impossible feat at the moment. He gets his reply from Harry quickly and groans again when he reads it.

_nah mate. nick. you two were together the whole night. didn't hook up then?_

Louis sends off a quick _no_ before he drops his phone next to him on the bed. He should send Nick flowers or something. Maybe something less romantic. Muffins, maybe. Or a car. Then again, he's not sure of the romantic implications of giving someone a car. Maybe they're like roses and a yellow car means friendship, while a red car means love.

The alcohol seems to have stuck to his brain a bit.

-

Instead of a car, Louis decides to send Nick a thank you text once his head is a bit clearer and he's showered and had some breakfast. He spends ten minutes trying to get the wording right and he cringes when he finally sends what he's come up with, hopeful that it doesn't sound weird.

_thank you for driving me home. and for the medicine and water. and i am very very sorry about anything and everything i said last night and if you don't mention it on the radio i will be eternally grateful.._

As the minutes tick by after he's sent it, he feels more and more like he probably did something humiliating and Nick is going to avoid him and probably spread word around about whatever it is. He finally gives up on getting a response and slumps down on the couch to watch recorded episodes of Mad Men. Half an episode in, his phone buzzes and Louis doesn't want to look, but he has to.

_i'm really sorry i left but i didn't think you'd fancy waking up with me there. hope you're feeling alright. xx_

Before Louis can do anything but gape at the kindness of the message, another one comes in.

_and of course i won't mention it on the radio, you arse. xx_

He wishes he could remember the entire night, particularly the part with Nick putting Louis to bed. He can only pray that he didn't do anything too horrifying. He lets himself smile a bit, though, as he types his reply.

_you're an alright lad, aren't ya_

He's finally starting to relax about everything, glad that Nick isn't taking the piss or avoiding him completely, and he starts playing Mad Men again, sipping at his tea and feeling pleased. That is, until he gets another text from Nick.

_glad you're not still acting like you can't stand me, sober louis. xx_

Louis' stomach drops so quickly that he thinks he might be sick because he remembers it in a flash, telling Nick that he thought he was cute and not just when he was drunk. He remembers telling him that sober Louis thinks he's cute and that is quite a different thing from drunkenly hitting on him.

He takes a few minutes to calm down, his cheeks flaming with humiliation, before he finally types out a response.

_i'm moving to new zealand goodbye_

With that, he drops his phone and buries his face into the couch cushion, vowing never to drink again. It's a vow he's made before, but he thinks he means it this time.

-

Clearly he didn't mean it because he's had two drinks with dinner and, when Zayn suggests they go out after, Louis agrees. They go to a club and are led to a private area in the back and Louis dances a bit, having a few more drinks, before he falls onto the couch. As he sits, he grows tetchy and he finds himself wishing Nick was there. Nick was a lovely drinking buddy. Nick danced with him.

He whips out his phone and scrolls to the name, tapping it thoughtlessly. He tucks his feet up under him as it rings and he takes another sip from his drink, having forgotten what it even is. It's sort of clear, but sort of yellowish, too. Louis wonders what sort of liquor is yellowish.

“Hello?”

Louis is shocked out of his thoughts at the voice and he grins into the phone. “Hi! Nick!” He can hear the lad chuckling and Louis smiles so hard his cheeks hurt.

“Well, hello, drunk Louis. So nice to hear from you again.”

Louis actually giggles at that, dropping his head onto the arm rest of the couch. “Is it? Where are you? Can you be here instead?”

“It is,” Nick starts slowly, and Louis can hear that he's still smiling. It's nice. Louis likes him a lot. “And I'm at Harry's, actually. Why don't _you_ be _here_ instead?”

Louis thinks that sounds like a lovely idea except for the fact that Zayn seems to have fucked off with someone, probably smoking a joint in the bathroom. “I don't know how,” he says, frowning. “And you probably wouldn't even kiss me.”

Nick laughs again and Louis quite likes the sound.

“Maybe not, but I'd enjoy your company anyway,” Nick offers. Louis can hear other voices in the background. He hopes Nick won't kiss any of those people.

“Zayn's disappeared,” he says, looking around again just in case he's shown up again. He hasn't and all the looking makes Louis dizzy.

“So, text him to let him know you've gone and get a taxi-”

There's a shuffle and suddenly Harry's voice is bright in the phone. “Lou! Get here, mate, we're gonna play Apples to Apples!”

Louis loves Apples to Apples. He loves arguing his case, loves winning with his volume more than his wit. There's another shuffle and Nick's voice is back, softer and nicer.

“C'mon, drunk Louis,” he says, once again sounding like he's smiling. “I've missed you.”

That's plenty enough for Louis and he says he'll be there as soon as possible, abandoning Zayn at the club. Outside, he falls into a waiting taxi and has to search through his phone for Harry's address to give to the woman behind the wheel.

Twenty-some minutes later, he's pulling up to the familiar giant house and he overpays the driver before getting out and moving toward the door, feeling less energetic than earlier after sitting still for twenty minutes.

He doesn't bother knocking, just lets himself in. He can hear voices down the hall to his left and he clumsily kicks off his shoes before making his way toward the noise.

“Louis!” Harry shouts and then Louis is surrounded in a crushing hug from his best mate.

He laughs and lets Harry spin him around once, the motion whirring up the alcohol in his system again, making him feel lighter. When he's put down and Harry runs back to kneel in front of the coffee table around which everyone is seated, Louis spots Nick next to him. When their eyes meet, Nick looks down at the cards in his hand and picks one out, placing it face down in the middle of the table before he stands, walking toward Louis.

“Did you tell Zayn where you went?” He asks and Louis thinks it's not the greatest greeting he's ever gotten, but then it hits him that he forgot to text Zayn.

“Oh shit,” he says, frantically searching for his phone and opening it up to type out a text.

As he types it, Nick moves around behind him, hugging his waist, and Louis likes that a lot. He leans back into the lad, forcing himself to finish out the text instead of abandoning his phone and focusing solely on Nick like he wants to.

“Already know drunk Louis so well,” he mutters, giving Louis a little squeeze.

When he has responsibly alerted Zayn as to his whereabouts, he pockets his phone and turns in Nick's arms, giving him a pout.

“You already started the game,” he points out. He'll never be able to catch up now.

“You can be on my team.” Nick grins and pulls Louis toward the table, sitting in his previous spot. Louis stands there, looking around because there's no room on either side of him, but then Nick moves his legs apart and pats the floor between them. Louis practically bounces on the balls of his feet before squeezing in and making room for himself between Nick's legs.

He likes it here, likes the way Nick's long body surrounds him, likes the soft breath on the back of his neck. Looking around, he checks to see who's winning. He doesn't know several of these people, but that doesn't bother him much. He sees that Harry has the most, three cards, and Nick has one. Louis picks it up and grins, turning the upper half of his body to whisper.

“You know the cards you win are supposed to describe you, right?” He can't see Nick at this angle, but he hears an “mhmm” in response. “Well, now that we're a team, it has to describe _us_.”

Nick doesn't say anything but he snakes an arm around Louis' waist to give him a quick squeeze and Louis shifts to face forward again, smiling happily. He drops the card back on the table in front of them.

_Cute._ Louis thinks they are, anyway.

-

They don't win and, for once, Louis doesn't care. Nick holds the cards in front of him and lets Louis pick which card to play and he'd very much like to be kissing, but this is good, too. At the end of the game, they've won the cards cute, unbelievable, and loud. Louis definitely believes that the cards describe them.

As people filter away from the table, heading to the toilets or getting up to refill their drinks, Louis awkwardly shifts between Nick's legs, turning until they're facing each other. He swings his legs over Nick's thighs and smiles at the lad, glad to finally be able to see his face.

“Are you glad I came even if I made you lose?” He asks, throwing on a pout for good measure.

“I would have lost either way,” Nick says, shaking his head. “At least I had fun losing this way.”

Louis grins at that, scooting even closer until they're practically pressed chest to chest and Louis can circle his arms around Nick's neck. He's relieved when Nick doesn't push him away because Louis can see that maybe he's being a bit clingy. He just doesn't much care.

“You're cute,” he says, smiling.

Nick is unreadable and Louis can't tell if it's the alcohol or just Nick's expression. Either way, he can't tell if he's being annoying or if his advances are welcome. After all, Nick told him to come and let him sit between his legs. But Nick also said he wouldn't kiss him.

“Bet you tell all the boys that, drunk Louis,” Nick finally replies.

Before Louis can reply, the lights dim and music starts playing, something Louis doesn't recognize. He wishes there was a jukebox because Harry probably won't let him pick any songs. Nick let him pick.

“I need another drink,” Nick says, sliding a hand over Louis' back.

Louis is just about to feel stupid, like he pushed too far and now he's being rejected, but then Nick speaks again. “Want to come with?”

Louis smiles and nods because, yes, he really does.

-

As the party starts winding down, the house getting quieter and the music becoming slower, Louis doesn't want to leave. Nick hasn't tried to shake him off, even pulling him closer from time to time, but he's not kissing him and Louis starts wondering where Harry stores his Christmas decorations. Certainly there's some mistletoe somewhere in this house. He even vaguely wonders if a bit of parsley would do the trick, but then he realizes he might be a crazy person and he gives up on that idea.

“You're pouting,” Nick says when Pixie walks off, looking for Harry to say goodbye.

“Because I can't figure out why you're never kissing me,” Louis says, pulling Nick closer. “I'm kissable, I think? Don't you?”

Nick rolls his eyes and lets Louis pull him in. When Louis lets go, Nick gently pushes him so his back is pressed up against the wall and Louis can hear his heart beat in his ears. It's going to happen, he knows it is.

“The green card for kissable would belong to you and only you,” Nick says, almost sighing the words out, his fingers grazing over Louis' neck. “I like you a lot, drunk Louis, and I would love to kiss you, but I need to hear sober Louis tell me he wants to kiss me first.”

Louis frowns because those words are sort of confusing, like Nick is speaking in riddles. He thinks he understands, though, and he pushes his head forward to nose at Nick's jaw.

“I'm not nearly as drunk as last time, though,” he tries to reason.

Nick puffs out a soft laugh at that. “I'd say not. Keeping your clothes on and everything.”

Louis squawks, whipping his head back to look up at Nick, but he'd forgotten there was a wall there and his head slams into it, hard enough that the cracking sound echoes in the room. He's torn between embarrassment and pain, but the pain is strong enough that he lets it win out for a moment and he grasps the back of his head, wincing.

Nick's arms are around him instantly, hugging him close, one sliding up to cover Louis' hands. “Fuck, babe, you okay?” He asks quickly. “Shit. Shit shit shit.”

The pain continues to throb through his head, but humiliation edges its way up until that is Louis' primary emotion. He buries his face in Nick's shoulder, wondering how he keeps making such a giant arse of himself in front of Nick.

“Come on, let's put some frozen peas on your head,” Nick says, pulling Louis away from the wall.

Louis refuses to pull his face away from Nick's shoulder, though, so Nick walks slowly backward down the hall toward the kitchen with Louis clinging to him, mortified.

When they get there, it's gratefully empty and Louis lets Nick separate from him long enough to search around in the freezer. A few moments later, he emerges with an ice pack.

“No peas so we'll have to make do with this,” he says, hurrying to wrap it in a paper towel.

When he comes back to Louis, he brings the ice pack to the back of his head, his other hand resting at the side of Louis' neck. “Seriously, are you okay? That sounded terrible.” His thumb is moving over Louis' jaw and Louis is sure the pain is gone now because all he can feel is that touch.

“I'm fine,” he says, cheeks on fire. “I'm such an idiot. No wonder you don't want to kiss me, fuck.”

Nick frowns and leans in until his nose is practically touching Louis', their eyes falling shut, too close to see. “Didn't we establish that I'd very much like to kiss you? Or did you knock that memory out of your head?”

Louis wants to dwell on Nick wanting to kiss him, but he suddenly remembers what started this whole head-into-wall incident.

“Oh god, you said I didn't keep my clothes on last time? Before I brained myself on the wall?” He doesn't pull back this time, would prefer for them both to keep their eyes closed so Nick can't see the layers upon layers of humiliation on his face.

“You don't remember?” He asks, shifting the ice pack a bit, keeping it light on Louis' head. “Well, it wasn't too bad. Just, when I took you to your bed, you were dead set on me getting in with you and you tried to get your shirt off. But you weren't very coordinated and you got a little bit stuck.”

Louis squeezes his eyes shut harder, wanting in this moment to just disappear. He swears under his breath and slides out from between Nick and the counter behind him, letting the ice pack fall away from his head. “Well, head's all healed, I think, but I'm going to have to leave and never speak to you again, which I think you'll agree is best for everyone.”

When he tries to walk out of the room, Nick pulls him back, his chest pressing into Louis' back. Before Louis can protest or run away, there are lips on his neck, kissing his skin softly. He can't help but shudder at the feeling, letting Nick hold him there as his lips slide up the curve of his neck and kiss right behind his ear.

“Sorry, won't agree to that,” he says softly. “There are so many other places I have yet to kiss.”

Louis doesn't think it's fair for Nick to say things like that when he won't even kiss him on the lips. But mostly Louis is tired and still embarrassed. Head injuries really take it out of you.

“Think I'm gonna kip here,” he says, letting Nick hold him there in the kitchen. “My house is very far away.”

Without another word, Nick guides him upstairs and into the guest room Louis knows so well. Louis falls onto the bed and can't help but smile when Nick fusses with the blanket, pulling it out from under Louis and then up over him, tucking him in. But the smile turns to a frown when Nick stands again, looking uncertain.

“You could stay,” Louis offers quietly, feeling more sober now. “I'll keep my clothes on, I swear.”

Nick smiles and Louis thinks that making Nick smile is one of the best feelings, right up there with hearing his songs on the radio for the first time and giving significant charitable donations.

“Maybe I'd better,” he says, nodding. “Make sure you're not concussed and all.”

Louis is quite sure he's not concussed, but he'll take what he can get, so he nods, scooting across the bed to leave room for Nick. He pulls the blanket up to his chin as Nick climbs in with him and quickly decides that the lad looks nice in a bed.

He falls asleep with his head resting on Nick's shoulder and fingers brushing over his back. He still might be in love.

-

In the morning, the hangover isn't nearly as bad as the last one. His head is throbbing dully, but that's probably as much from the blunt force trauma as it is from the alcohol. He turns onto his side, then onto the other side and quickly notices that the bed is empty. He's sure it wasn't so empty when he fell asleep.

Getting up, he scurries into the bathroom for a much-needed wee and he brushes his teeth, wondering when Nick left. He also wonders if Harry's up yet because he could really use a massive breakfast right about now.

When he gets himself together, he slides out of the room and makes his way downstairs, hearing voices in the kitchen. All of his questions are answered then because he hears Harry laughing and pans moving about, the smell of bacon wafting through the air, but he also hears Nick's voice.

As he rounds the corner into the large kitchen, he rubs the last of the sleep from his eyes and smiles when Harry greets him happily. Louis turns to Nick and sees another smile there, softer and more hesitant.

“Hey there, sober Louis,” he says, leaning his bum back against the counter.

Louis doesn't really think twice about it, shuffling across the tiled floor, his arms tucked up against his chest. He doesn't hesitate before leaning against Nick's chest, resting his head on the man's shoulder.

An arm wraps around his shoulders and Louis smiles, liking the feeling very much. He watches Harry cook for a moment before pulling back just enough to look up into Nick's eyes.

“I still want to kiss you,” he says, fingers fiddling with a button on Nick's shirt.

Nick's face breaks into a wide grin and Louis really does love making him smile. “Finally,” he replies before dipping down to press his lips into Louis'.

Louis can't believe it was so easy, so simple, and he wasn't expecting it, but likes unexpected. He kisses Nick, his heart doing acrobatics in his chest because his lips feel incredible against Louis', moving gently, pressing into little kisses that are all wrapped up in one big kiss. Louis might hum a bit, letting Nick's strong hands pull him flush against his chest, not wanting to let go quite yet.

But then Harry announces that the bacon is ready and Louis really is hungry, so he does let go, looking up into Nick's eyes.

“Couldn't have done that a few ages ago, huh?” Louis teases, eyes twinkling through his smile.

Nick rolls his eyes and squeezes Louis close, eyes darting over to Harry, then back down to Louis. “Wanted to be sure you'd remember it,” he says quietly, dropping down for another kiss.

Louis smiles into this one because he knows that the _it_ to which Nick is referring is their first kiss, which he thinks means there will be many more to come. He thinks about stealing the cute card from Harry's Apples to Apples game and giving it to Nick to keep because he really is.

As Louis happily munches on crispy bacon, perched on a stool at the island in the middle of the room, Nick keeps smiling at him, little glances that make Louis blush. He's starting to realize that maybe Nick hadn't actually believed him, that sober Louis did indeed think he was cute, that sober Louis did indeed want to kiss him.

“How's your head feeling?” Nick asks before taking a sip from his coffee.

Louis shakes his head quickly. “It never happened. You imagined it all.”

Nick rolls his eyes and gets up to refill his cup, but he stops behind Louis and drops a kiss to the back of his head. Louis blushes again, can't really help it.

“You're cute,” Nick mumbles, kissing his head again.

Harry throws a piece of bacon at them, rolling his eyes.

-

The next night, Nick comes to Louis' house and Louis has no drinks but he feels drunk anyway as they snog on the couch, fingers pushing under fabric to touch warm skin. He feels drunk as he falls onto his bed and Nick chases after him, lips on skin and hands everywhere.

Louis is allowed to take his clothes off this time and he does so with only marginal improvement in the coordination department, too lost in Nick's touch to be graceful about it. As he watches the lad kiss down his chest, fingers on the button of his jeans, Louis thinks that this kind of drunk is way better than anything alcohol has ever done for him.

He still might be in love. This time, though, he's keeping that thought to himself.


End file.
